Vamp's Smile
by Gemini Star
Summary: He knows why she's changed, and he regrets it. Can she turn back to what she was?
1. Vamp's Smile

**Vamp's smile**

He coughed in the smoke that filled his notrils. Filthy, unclean thing, he thought bitterly. The cigarettes that surrounded him were all lighted up and emitted wisps of smoke. 

He was charismatic and good-looking, with perfect manners. His eyes were the color of the sky at midnight, a striking blue that pierced your soul. He had a body that some men may kill for. Heads turned to look at him, mostly of women. Some were skinny as lamposts; he bet that they were anorexic. Some were overweight, jewellery dripping off their wrists and necks, even ankles. 

The woman next to him was tall, but not skinny. She was slender and voluptuous, very curvacious. The dress she wore was almost vulgarly revealing. A cigarette, too, perched at the tips of her painted and manicured fingernils. She had long hair that swung behind her, and her eyes were narrowed. Even as he glanced at her, she drew in a lungful of smoke and let it out with a sigh of satisfaction. 

She caught him staring, and sent him a glacial glare. He looked away quickly. She linked her arm with his, to keep up appearances, and dragged him into a crowd of women. "This is my lover," she introduced. One of the chattering women - a girl, really, she was only about seventeen - ceased her talk idly and gave him the once-over he was used to by rich people. "My name is Arabelle," she said, tipping a little to the side. She smelt of whiskey, strong liquor, and there was a glass of something unidentifiable in her hand. 

"Nice to meet you," he said, taking her hand and kissing it lightly and politely. Arabelle giggled and twirled her fingers too close to him. He stepped back a little, and his companion shot him a frown that would have put out the cigarette in her hand like a bucket of icy water. She waved at her friends and held up a finger, signaling that she would be right back. She gave him a gentle push and a fake brush of her lips as he stumbled forward into a crowd of men in business suits and ties. 

All of their cheeks were ruddy, all held a glass in his hand, and they laughed loudly. "Hello, boy," one said, slapping him in the back. He nearly fell, but kept his balance and composure. "Hello," he replied almost inaudibly. 

This sparked off a round of laughter, and someone pushed a glass into his hand. He took it politely and immediately ducked out of the vicious circle of taunters. As usual, he headed for the toilet. 

"What a bloody circle," he whispered to himself, wrapped in the cocoon of safety in the empty toilet, the British accent evident in his voice. The door was locked and no one would be using it anyway; he knew that from experience. He lifted the glass and took a whiff, then a cautious sip. 

Violently, he spit the mouthful he took back into the gleaming marble sink that probably a servant slaved over every day. Spiked. That was why everyone was drunk. 

This party was getting out of hand, he decided. Like all the other parties he went to with his wife. He didn't usually curse, but he allowed himself the luxury now; there was no other way to describe the turmoil of his feeling in his heart. He let loose his anger in a round of cursing. 

He was sick of these facades that the rich kept up. What wouldn't he give to see the girl his wife was before he married her? Much as he tried to coax her out of the lure of the fact that she could have whatever she wanted, she wouldn't listen. 

If only he hadn't married her in the first place. If only he hadn't ruined her life and his. 

If only she were the same. 

He remained in the toilet for at least two hours, balancing on the sink and just _thinking_. He thought of their childhood together, and his heart wrenched at the memory. He longed for the days that had passed and would never come back again. Looking at the golden, expensive and heavy watch tightened around his wrist - she had demanded him to look more presentable - he decided that it was time enough for her to finish up with her jaunts. 

He washed his hands and dashed the glass against the sink, breaking it into a million pieces. He drained the repulsive liquid out of the glass and let the tinier glass bits flow down the sink. He picked up the bigger pieces and tossed them into the wastepaper basket. Then, washing his hands again, he stepped out of the toilet and down the corridor. 

He stopped a passing woman who looked as bored as he was. He found out that her name was Hazel. She was probably in the same situation he was, and he welcomed her company warmly, as did she. They chatted for about half an hour before he broke the question: where was his wife? Her eyes clouded over, and she said, "She's doing what everybody else is doing save us. In the room on the second floor, furthest from the stairwell for privacy. She booked the most expensive room. You must have a lot of money," she added. 

She kept silent, like him. He spoke up, standing. "You must have a lot of money as well," he replied, flashing her a pained smile. She nodded and leant back on a reclining chair. "She's a loose woman, your wife." Hazel looked sorry that she was saying this, but she persisted. "She's with a different man every Saturday here. I'm sorry." 

He turned around. "I know. Everyone here is ... disloyal. I wish ... " he left the sentence trailing as he began climbing the steps. Hazel sighed and leant back on her chair. She knew what he wished; she'd been wishing it for three years. Hazel's husband refused to divorce her, even though she wanted it. She'd tried to love him; she'd really tried. Those pathetic people moaning with pleasure up there behind closed doors were leeches, leeching for money. Some changed into these parasites, like the wife of the man she had talked to. 

Some were born that way. 

He paused outside the door that hid his wife. Raising his voice, he called, "Honey, are you in there?" 

The squeals, moans, and breathy sighs stopped at once. "Yes, I'm here. I'm coming out." He could hear the frenzy for their lost clothes, and soon, his wife appeared before him, breathless and flushed. He couldn't look at her, he knew what he would see. Her hair would be messy, her clothes would be knocked askew. He couldn't look at the man his wife came out with, either. From past experience, his wife's lipstick would be smeared across his face. 

He turned a blind eye as the man discreetly passed a wad of cash to her, and she pocketed it smoothly. The man disappeared quickly as he took her hand, leading her down the steps. He saw Hazel with the man whom his wife had been with, and his and Hazel's eyes locked. They were fellow comrades, trapped in a gilded cage, a hopeless cage. Hazel led the man out, also pretending not to notice the lipstick over his clothes and face. 

He looked at her now. The beauty was certainly there. But she had changed. Not for the better, either. He still held on to her, in hopes that she was change back to the sweet girl she was when they were young. He could divorce her. He could cast her aside like used tissue and permanently demolish her reputation in the rich. 

But he knew that these Saturday nights were all his wife lived for. It was as if he couldn't give it to her, what she got from another man. He wasn't talking about the money. If he left her, she would not live. He was sure of that. 

However, he couldn't love her anymore. Like Hazel, he had tried - tried very hard. That night, when his wife was asleep, he wrote a note and slipped it under his wife's pillow. Then, he took whatever scant belongings he had and returned to his homeland, where three special people as close as siblings to him were waiting. 

When she woke up, she knew that he had left her, but she was still happy. Hey, he didn't take any money! Didn't delete the bank accounts! Joyfully, she began spreading the news that she had found him cheating on her and so divorced him. She kept the hurt mask on for about three weeks before returning to the parties. Only Hazel realized the truth. 

It was on a Saturday night, when she was getting ready to leave, that she found it. She flipped the pillow aside in search of her mascara and found the note. She flipped it open, read it once, then sat down on the bed and read it again. 

_Dear Tomoyo, _

_I used to love you. But you've changed, my dear. You aren't the same anymore. You're like a vamp now. _

_I regret marrying you, because if I hadn't, then you wouldn't have transformed. But I won't feel sorry for knowing you. I am blessed to have known you before I married you. If I had not, then I wouldn't have known the beautiful personality that you were. _

_You can have my money, you can have all of it. _

_Do you still keep in touch with Sakura, your best friend? Do you still talk and laugh like usual? Do you still sing like before? Question yourself! Question yourself, and tell me the answers! _

_I have returned to England. _

_I loved you. _

_-Hiiragizawa Eriol _

**Author's Notes**

//sighs// I found the ending a little sad ... maybe I should rewrite it and make it a happy ending. 

Nah. 

I guess the sadness may be its charm so if you've got the time, please review! 


	2. Memories Flicker Back

**Vamp's smile  
Chapter Two: Memories Flicker Back  
**

_

Remember me?  
Feels like forever.  
Since the days,   
When we were friends.

_

She walked along, the picture of serenity and sweetness. Her bag swinging in one hand, the elementary school teacher gazed at the cherry blossom trees overhanging the lane. Petals spiralled down, framing the earnest face. The schoolteacher was eager to please, and she looked demure and gracious, and she looked like she was twenty-one and fresh out of college. In truth, she was twenty-nine. Only twenty-nine. There was still a long pavement of life in front of her. 

Then she came upon the playground that contained her childhood memories. The penguin slide was exactly the same. Tides of sorrow seemed to overwhelm her, and she suddenly looked haggard and old. 

A word unknowingly slipped from her lips, and she looked astonished as the once-familiar syllables hung in the air. 

"Tomoyo ... " 

Sakura smiled, a small, slow, sad smile, a smile that mirrored her emotions. The memories were so clear. So vivid. It was as if they had happened yesterday. She couldn't believe that she'd forgotten. They were dusty, but her mind blew the grit off them and began paging through the mounds of remembrance that she had kept so deeply inside. 

Tomoyo had always been there for her, all through her Card Captoring life and beyond. Eriol had proposed, she had agreed, the wedding had been perfect. 

So why did Sakura feel so bad inside? 

Her intuition and gut feelings were seldom wrong, and she'd learnt to trust them, over time. She'd ask Syaoran when she got home. 

_

Don't understand,  
All these changes.  
I'm still the same,  
No need to pretend.

_

"Syao-kun, have you heard from Tomoyo lately?" Sakura enquired as she scooped their son, Billy, up. 

"Tomoyo?" Syaoran turned away from Sakura as he furiously began to mix the batter of eggs. _Shit,_ he thought. _Please don't tell me that Sakura knows._

"Have you?" Sakura asked again patiently even as Billy planted wet soppy kisses all over her face. "Billy," she chided gently. "Please, I'm talking with your daddy. We'll play later, okay?" 

"How was work today?" Syaoran asked, desperately trying to evade Sakura's question. 

"Fine. The children were perfect. Syao-kun, please answer my question." 

Syaoran couldn't hold it in any longer. Slowly, taking his time, he wiped his hands on his pants, and with bits of dough still on his hair and eyelashes, he faced Sakura. 

_

Where'd it go?  
Do you know?  
Maybe it just doesn't matter.

_

"Actually, Sakura," he began. "Eriol left Tomoyo." 

"Eriol whaaaaaaaaaat?!" Sakura exclaimed, putting Billy down and bidding him to go play. Cheerfully, the two-year-old, bubbly young toddler scampered away. 

"Why?" 

"When was the last time you heard from Tomoyo?" challenged Syaoran. "Three years," Sakura confessed. "But what does that have to do with Eriol? Syaoran, you're knowing something I _don't,_" she alluded. 

Syaoran couldn't hedge any longer as he crossed the kitched. "Oh, Sakura, I just didn't want to tell you, but Tomoyo's really different now." 

"What do you mean by different?" Sakura looked flustered as Billy came back into the kitchen with a crumpled piece of paper in one hand. The soft late afternoon light illuminated his unique brown hair, a mixture of golden, light-brown, and darker brown. "Sweetie." Sakura lifted Billy up and stared at him. "Please stay away from this kitchen, okay? Mom and Dad are busy." 

"I just want to show you this," retorted the obstinate toddler. He passed the picture to Syaoran, who admired it. "It's a picture of Mommy, me, Daddy, and that auntie flying up there." He waved his chubby fingers at a picture of Tomoyo hanging on the wall. 

Sakura couldn't speak as her husband shepherded Billy out of the kitchen. 

"You - you were saying?" Sakura stammered, sticking Billy's scrawled picture onto the fridge. 

"She's changed, Sakura-chan," repeated Syaoran gently. "See, after she married Eriol, she's just ... not herself." 

_

'Cos when I try to talk to you,  
I feel like I'm not getting through to you.  
Where did we go wrong?  
It's hard to be strong.  
When I talk ...   
When I talk to you.  


_

After Syaoran's description, Sakura sank back, the blood completely drained out of her face. 

Syaoran hugged her wordlessly. She melted into his embrace, and they rocked back and forth, Sakura quietly weeping. "I didn't want to tell you that," murmured Syaoran. "Eriol told me not to." 

"Eriol." Sakura raised her head, light playing off her emerald eyes shiny with tears. "How is he?" 

"Upset. Tired. He's at England with Ruby and Suppi." Syaoran's expression was grim. 

Sakura swayed as she rose. "I'm going to call her." 

"Sakura, don't do this," Syaoran pleaded. "You'll make yourself more upset." 

"I don't care." 

Syaoran sighed as Sakura left the kitchen. Now he knew where Billy got his stubborness from. 

_There were times  
In the beginning   
When you were there  
When I needed you most  
_

Tomoyo snarled when the phone rang. Wrapping a towel hastily around herself, she swore as she hurled the bathroom door open and waded through the soup that had accumulated since Eriol had left. Tripping over her pillow, she cursed again as she picked up the phone. 

"What!" she snapped sharply. 

"Hello?" the voice was feminine, faint, a little sad even. 

"Speak louder!" Tomoyo barked. 

"Yes." The person seemed to draw herself together. "Hello, Tomoyo. It's been a long time." 

Tomoyo frowned. Now that the caller mentioned it, her voice sounded familiar. As if she were from another lifetime. 

"What? Explain!" Even though she wanted to know who the caller was, her scented bubble-bath was ten times more important, of course. 

"Tomoyo ... " the person was crying slightly. "Don't you recognize me?" 

In a flash of recollection that hit her like a bomb, Tomoyo had to stifle a scream as her lilac eyes widened. 

_

We'd sit and talk,  
About the future.  
And laugh about,  
Us getting old.

_

"Oh my God," Tomoyo muttered. "Sakura?" 

"Yes, Tomoyo-chan," Sakura was brokenly sobbing. "God, you sound so different." 

Miasma of memories, locked away in another chapter of her life, escaped and flew around Tomoyo's head. She was on the verge of saying, "Shut up! I'm not a little girl anymore and you don't need to call me something-chan." when she stopped and buttoned up her mouth. 

_What is wrong with me?_ Ordinarily, she would have said that without another thought, and she would have hung up, but she didn't. 

This was, after all, one of her old friends. 

"So?" was all she could manage. But another voice, deeper than the first and clearly angered, overlapped her next words. "I won't have you talking like that to Sakura, Tomoyo," he threatened. 

Tomoyo struggled to remember the voice. It was familiar, dammit. 

"It's Syaoran," scowled the male. "Syaoran!" Tomoyo choked. How could she have forgotten? 

She realized that tripping over the pillow had unearthed something. Reaching down, she picked it up. It was a beautiful locket, and when she flipped it open, a serene and innocent song tinkered in the air. There was a picture of Tomoyo in it, on her wedding, clumsily taken but otherwise a good shot of Tomoyo's shining eyes, eager expression, and her laughter seemed to ring out in the air even as the older version of Tomoyo looked at it. Below the picture was Sakura's neat handwriting. There were only two words on it, but these two words touched her like nothing else would. 

"Friends forever." 

A picture of her, on her wedding night. She remembered that there was a secret compartment at the back. Cradling the phone between her shoulder and her ear, she pried a fingernail into the locket's back and forced it open. 

_

Do you know?  
How it feels?  
I hope that you know that it matters.

_

Sakura opened her mouth to speak, but stopped abruptly at the sound of Tomoyo's locket. Of course. The locket that Sakura'd given her. 

That night, Sakura had been the one fawning over Tomoyo instead of the other way around. Tomoyo had been radiant - she was so happy. Sakura had drawn her aside and given her the locket, whispering into her ear, "Friends forever?" 

Tomoyo had taken the locket, and, with eyes shining with tears, opened it. Her eyes widened when she saw the picture inside - of her wedding ceremony in the morning - and she'd read the words with her tears falling like pale sapphires. 

Tomoyo had hugged Sakura. "Friends forever," she replied. Sakura had laughed and cried and goodness knows what else, and when Tomoyo was about to leave for their new house with her bridegroom, Sakura had helped her into the car and revealed, "There's a secret compartment at the back. Use your fingernail to open it. Do so by yourself, okay?" 

Tomoyo had nodded, had given Sakura a final hug, and, the two girls crying, Tomoyo left with a store of hopeful dreams. 

All Sakura could do now was to pray that the locket could make a difference. 

"Tomoyo?" Syaoran's voice broke the silence. Tomoyo answered distractedly. "Yes?" 

Sakura restrained herself from talking and hoped that Syaoran would do so too. She felt a flutter of excitement inside. Tomoyo sounded almost the same as before. 

_

'Cos when I try to talk to you,  
I feel like I'm not getting through to you.  
Where did we go wrong?  
It's hard to be strong.  
When I talk ...   
When I talk to you.  


_

Tomoyo got it open at last, and a folded piece of paper, yellowed with years shed like rainwater, tumbled out and landed awkwardly onto the floor. Tomoyo reached for it, and grasping it firmly with her fingers, began to read. 

_"Dear Tomoyo, _

Good luck with Master! We'll miss you both. -Ruby & Spinel 

Good-bye, and all the best for the future. Thank you ever so much for all your help. -Syaoran 

Thanks for getting Sakura together with the Chinese gaki. They're a pretty good match. -Touya 

Hello Tomoyo! I still miss your wonderful cakes, but I'll miss your presence more. Good luck! -Yukito 

Thank you for guarding over Sakura. -Yue 

Waaahhhh! I'll miss your food and your great costumes!! Of course, I'll miss your friendship as well! -Kero 

Don't forget our promise. We've been through the thick, we've been through the thin, so let us go through the years ahead together, all right? I'll really, really miss you. -Sakura." 

_

I want you to know everything that I am,  
Don't want to know what life would be ...  
Without you.   


_

"Sakura-chan?" 

"Yes?" 

Tomoyo choked on her own tears. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." 

"You shouldn't be apologizing to me, Tomoyo," Sakura reminded her gently. "There's a man in England who's still waiting for you." 

"Eriol's still waiting?" Tomoyo breathed. 

"He really loves you, Tomoyo. All the best." Syaoran's extension clicked, indicating that he had put down the phone. 

"Tomoyo, friends forever. Don't break your promise." Sakura sounded delirious with joy. 

"I won't. Friends forever." Tomoyo agreed, sounding like her warm self again. 

There was another click on the line as Sakura put down the phone. 

"Sakura, you're a genius!" Syaoran exulted as he flew down the stairs. Sakura simply smiled, her cheeks flushed. "I know," she murmured as they embraced. 

_

'Cos when I try to talk to you,  
I feel like I'm not getting through to you.  
Where did we go wrong?  
It's hard to be strong.  
When I talk ...   
When I talk to you.  


_

From then on, the servants in Tomoyo's house didn't know what happened to their mistress. She dressed well, kicked her smoking habit easily, and she let go most of the servants, preferring to do the housework herself. Quietly, she dropped out of all social activities and began to look for a job. She stopped her shopping sprees, spending the time falling back on her favourite activity - reading. 

Eventually, Tomoyo found a job as a computer programmer, and came up with a brilliant new software. Apparently, her skills had not gone rusty. Tomoyo became twice as rich - she _would_ have become twice as rich, but she donated most of her money to charity. 

She still had millions left over. Even though she was still rich, Tomoyo sold her mansion and decided on a picteresque spot in Tomoeda. The house was much smaller, so Tomoyo let go of all her servants. 

Even though she had crossed many hurdles, Tomoyo still had a mountain to climb. 

A mountain, with the name of Eriol. 

**

Author's Notes

**

Well, I couldn't let the thing end like that, so I decided to tween Tomoyo back to her normal self. Next chapter will be very very angsty 'cos the E + T pair are gonna meet. ^-^ Ja ne! 

The song's one of my faves: _When I Talk To You_ by Mandy Moore.


	3. Can You Still Love Me?

**Vamp's smile  
Chapter Three: "Can You Still Love Me?"  
**

**Sakura**: What time again?  
**Eriol**: Around three p.m. You don't have to be there. : )  
**Sakura**: Oh, I won't. Someone else will.  
**Eriol**: Who?  
**Sakura**: An old friend. Someone that you know.  
**Eriol**: Is it my cute little descendant?  
**Sakura**: That's for me to know and for you to find out.  
**Eriol**: You seem to be learning from me at last.  
**Sakura**: I take that as an insult, Eriol.   
**Eriol**: Ha! I've finally had the chance to teach my little cherry blossom something ... I'll see you soon.  
**Sakura**: OK. Must go. Billy's calling me.  
**Eriol**: Sure. See you. 

Sakura reached over to switch off the monitor just as Tomoyo burst in the door, carrying Billy. "I did it, Sakura! I know how to carry Billy now!" 

Sakura laughed. "You're a natural, Tomoyo." 

Tomoyo grinned as she looked down at Billy's cherubic face and set him down. "What are you doing?" 

"Oh, nothing," replied Sakura, crossing her fingers behind her back and glancing at the monitor to make sure that the chat room really had disappeared from sight. "Nothing at all." 

*** 

"All right," Eriol grumbled. "Just my luck, if I do say so myself." 

He glanced down at the coffee stain over his neatly-pressed shirt and at the ceramic white piece that was overturned on the table. He righted the coffee cup and took the tissue paper that Kaho offered him. "I wonder where Sakura is," he said out loud to Kaho, who was sitting opposite from him as he swiped the tissue over his shirt. 

"Or Syaoran, or whoever's supposed to pick you up," Kaho reminded him. "We've only been here for fifteen minutes, and it's only about four-thirty." 

"Maybe we missed them." Eriol looked around. Kaho shook her head. "Impossible. They know that our flight was delayed. They aren't impatient. Meanwhile, I'll have to visit the toilet." Kaho winced as Eriol knocked over his coffee cup a second time. "I want to go shopping too," she said, eyes trained on the souvenier shop nearby. "I'll see you," she finished off, brushing her lips on Eriol's cheek amiably. 

Eriol nodded and sighed as he pushed his overturned cup away from him. He was clumsy as a bull in a china shop, that's for sure, and if his magic ever went haywire like his common sense had that day - well, _end of the world_ didn't even begin to describe it. 

"Eriol?" 

Eriol raised his head and glanced around, expecting to see someone familiar. The voice sounded familiar all right; it sounded as if he knew the voice very well. 

"Eriol, over here ... " 

The tone was sad. Eriol stood, ignoring the stain on his shirt and his eyes fell on someone with hair the lightest shade of black and the darkest shade of gray possible, lilac eyes, and dressed in a modest, classic white shirt with flowing sleeves and black pants. She stood before him, close to the seat Kaho had left mere moments before; her eyes were soft and vulnerable. 

"Tomoyo," Eriol said tonelessly. "You're here to meet me?" 

Tomoyo looked back at Eriol as a slight blast of the air-conditioner ruffled her hair. "Yes, I am," she said empathetically. 

"Six months." 

"I know. I sold the house." 

"Where are you living now?" 

"Near Sakura. In Tomoeda." 

"Six months, Tomoyo," Eriol said dangerously, his words low and outraged as the fury and disappointment overtook him again. "Don't think I haven't changed. Don't think that you're the only one for me." 

"I know," Tomoyo repeated. 

That was all. _I know._ No protests, no declarations of love, no nothing. Just a blank look in her eyes, and her lips pursing as if she had tasted something bitter. Eriol's will shattered, and his voice was rushed, desperate even. "I love Kaho now, you know," he said coldly. 

"Good for you," Tomoyo said bitterly. "I thought we could be friends. Apparently not. I wanted to apologize. I thought that you'd be shocked. Sad. I was prepared for anger. But I never expected you to be so - so _cold_, so completely unfeeling." Her eyes darkened with tears, Tomoyo turned away to face Kaho. 

"Tomoyo," Kaho began, but Tomoyo pushed past her. Kaho caught the look in her face, and the clenched fists, and immediately she knew Eriol had said ... _it._ Eriol had used her for an excuse. Again. 

"Curse you, Eriol!" Kaho spat at him, before yelling after Tomoyo, "Even if Eriol loves me, I'll never accept him! Because I don't love him, and I never will!" The lies spilled out of Kaho's lips as she sacrificed the man she had loved and waited for so long. "He loves you more than life _itself_!" 

"Does he?" Tomoyo whispered, turning back. 

Kaho nodded, before retreating to one side. The entire café was staring at them, and Kaho, still enraged, shouted, "What are you all staring at?!" 

The café returned to its original, noisy state. 

Kaho regained her usual composure and watched as Eriol's eyes and Tomoyo's eyes met, and they resumed their icy conversation. "You, Eriol," Kaho instructed. She couldn't bear the scornful voices of Tomoyo and Eriol any longer. "Sit down. You too, Tomoyo. I am returning to England." Without another word, Kaho snatched up her luggage and with a steely, determined look in those limpid eyes, left Japan for good. 

Eriol and Tomoyo sat down stiffly in their seats. "How is Sakura and Syaoran?" Eriol questioned, never breaking the contact his eyes had with Tomoyo. "Fine," Tomoyo replied. "But I do believe that you say how _are_ and not how _is_." 

In his coldness, Eriol's grammatical rules had escaped him. 

Tomoyo stared into those unfeeling, hardened midnight eyes, and the dam that held in her emotions and her tears snapped. Pressing her face into her hands, Tomoyo's shoulders began to shake forcefully. 

Eriol didn't move, but sat there, like a carved marble statue with no expression. 

Tomoyo passed her hand over her eyes, shoved her chair back with a deafening screech and turned to leave. "I guess you really don't care anymore," she added, in a voice so low and disappointed that Eriol felt a tremor of emotion shake him. 

Tomoyo was halfway out the revolving doors, where Syaoran, Sakura and Billy were supposed to be waiting. _What do I say to them? They're expecting Eriol with me and not me alone. I can't ruin everything for them._

"Hey." 

A simple _hey_. Tomoyo's back stiffened as she slowly swung around. 

There was Eriol, steady, suave and completely at ease - exactly like the day he had asked her out for the first time. His beautiful midnight eyes were sparkling like wine, and a smile was half-hidden. He was leaning on the wall, and he was studying her. Bemused, Tomoyo played along. 

"Yes?" she asked. 

"Nothing. I was just wondering if you're free tomorrow." 

Tomoyo recognized the line. How many times had Eriol used it on her, complete with a coy half-smile? 

"I am," Tomoyo said cautiously. The smell of April, so many years before, wafted back to her and she couldn't help smiling ... 

_"Hey." _

Tomoyo turned around, sprawling on the ground and her schoolbooks almost hiding her. Seeing Eriol, she smiled. He leant on the rough bark of a weeping willow tree. They were at that special tree - the branches were so low that they swept the ground, creating an emerald canopy that only Tomoyo, Syaoran, Eriol and Sakura knew about. "Yes?" she asked, putting her pen down and tucking her feet underneath her neatly. 

"Nothing." 

Eriol crossed the length of the tree and sat down next to Tomoyo, his hair falling over his face untidily. His manner was casual and those eyes were charming. 

Tomoyo looked at her friend expectantly. 

"I was just wondering if you're free tomorrow." 

Tomoyo's heart skipped a beat, leaping into her throat. Swallowing, Tomoyo kicked her heart back down and it landed in her stomach. She felt her face grow hot. 

All the memories came back to Tomoyo, exactly like how they had returned to her about Sakura. Tomoyo smiled, slowly and mysteriously, feeling her cheeks turn pink. "Maybe," she said airily, as if it didn't matter or she didn't care. 

_"Maybe," fifteen-year-old Tomoyo replied, her voice low. "Why?" _

"There's a new café that opened, you know. Right next to the mall, in fact." 

"It's **in** the café, Eriol-kun," Tomoyo corrected cheekily. 

"Right. Yes." Eriol looked slightly flustered as he cleared his throat and sat up straighter. "I'm free tomorrow." 

"What do you mean by that?" Tomoyo was playing the game now, and she had all the good cards in her hand. 

"I ... well." 

"I know you're healthy. No need to tell me." 

"Um, youwannacometothiscaféwithmethen?" 

"In a sentence and not a word," suggested Tomoyo playfully. 

"You want to come to this café with me then?" 

"Why?" twenty-nine-year-old Tomoyo asked. 

"Well, there's this new mall that opened her, you see, near Tomoeda Elementary." 

"Yeah?" Tomoyo's voice was exasperated, going through this game she knew so well and had always played with Eriol. Eriol was the bad boy. He'll say that he loves you, but he won't call the next day. She knew it was a game - she'd always been playing along. Now it was her turn to run the game. 

"I'm free tomorrow." 

"What do you mean by that?" Tomoyo said carelessly, studying a broken fingernail. She picked a piece of lint off her pants and hid a smile. If she remembered correctly, this was the time Eriol messed up. 

"Well, you want to come to this mall with me then?" 

Totally smooth. No faltering, no rushing, and right on cue. Eriol's flirting skills had improved. 

Tomoyo looked up, the first sign of emotion in her face surprise. "I'll see," she said. 

Eriol broke into the first true smile he had in days - even weeks. That was all it took. Tomoyo slipped her hand into his. 

"Actually, I think I'm free now." 

**-End-**

**Author's Notes**

OK, OK. I relent to my sense of guilt. A happy ending for all. ^-^ 

Now let me thank some peeps ... 

**Miko-chan** - thanks for the suggestion on how to get better - I really appreciate constructive critism like that, and it's invaluable. I'll try in my future fics, as I wrote this before reading your review. 

**White Mist Wolf** - LOL, you reviewed my story first! Keep on writing horror, even if it isn't popular, it's your style. ^-^ 

**Utano-Amaya** - thanks for your comments! But my stories aren't as "descriptive and emotional" as yours, of course. I still love _Angel_ and I hope you write your next CCS fic soon! 

**Starlight Crystal** - yeah, I made Tomoyo sound like a slut. //sticks tongue out// LOL, I continued as soon as I can, too! ^-^ 

**Blueangel28** - I guess my second chapter explained that, well, yes and no. Sakura and Tomoyo weren't really friends then but they did patch up. Did I mention that Syaoran and Sakura ditched Tomoyo there on purpose so that she could have a nice long chat with Eriol? 

**Lakshmi** - //huggles Lakshmi// Your reviews were one of the best! Thank you soooo much! I'm glad I made you cry! OK ... that sounded weird ... T.T But honestly, in a good sense - at least _Vamp's Smile_ touched your heart. I'd thought that it would be a one-shot too. I opened my file and somehow I found myself finishing Part Two. ^-^;; 

**SAKURA LOVER** - a general thanks for your compliments. I hope you liked this, too. 

**Mei-Hua** - I think I'm right to say that your review was my main motivation. How can any halfway normal fanfic writer reject such a request? Thanks for reading my story! ^-^ 

**The Great One** - //hugs TGO// Oooh, your review was really cool, too. ^-^ I'm glad you don't hate me and ... //gets starry-eyed// Me? Better than Syaoran no hime? You're kidding! //sputters and passes you a new box of mascara// I hoped you like this chappie as much as the first two! 

**Sarri-chan** - ^-^;;; What can I say? I'm a sucker for angst. Chapter Three should be more light-hearted, though. 

**Summer Rain** - Eeee! //hugs Summer-chan// I'm so glad you decided to join Clow Sage (more excuse to talk, LOL) - and please continue _Friend Or Foe_ soon! Thankies for your reviews! 

**Fortuity Rose** - //sighs// I keep making people cry. Thanks for reading this! 

**SpringbloomOpal & Sailor Clueless** - firstly, cool username, the two of you! Secondly, thanks for saying that my fic is good! Made me very happy! 

**Kitahoshi** - LOL, I thought that that would be the ending too, but I guess not. I hope you like this ending better. ^-^ 

**DrM** - Awww ... you never read the second chapter! //sniffles// But nevermind. How's your collaboration with Mateem coming along? I think it's gonna be a laugh fest. 

**Kitty Calnan** - Oh no, you hate happy endings. ;_; I gave it a good angsty rollercoaster though, so maybe you enjoyed the ride - somehow. :p 

**Angel** - Thanks for being my first reviewer; I hope you read the next few chapters soon! 

Suppi: Gemini, your A/N is longer than your fic.  
Gemini: ;_; Just wanted to let everyone know I totally appreciate them, even though I'm not that good a writer or have that large a fanbase. I'm getting arrogant, I know.  
Suppi: Since when weren't you arrogant?  
Gemini: XD 


End file.
